Another little feature I intend to bring to The Tinbasher is to tell the odd tale about those slightly dubious types you’ve had the misfortune to work with over the years, or rather bizarre things you’ve seen happen in the workplace. Because, if we’re being honest, none of us actually go to work for the money. It’s those supreme moments of sublime comedy that really keeps us all going. Anyway, here’s a little story about the world’s most stupid apprentice.
During the Thatcher years, the Conservative Government somehow managed to dispense with the idea of apprenticeships and dream up a plethora of dodgy work schemes such as YOPS and its infamous successor, the YTS.
The Youth Training Scheme was basically a step up from that one week of work placement you did in a chocolate packing factory at your final year in school. The idea behind the work placement was to scare everybody about to do their exams into thinking what would happen if they didn’t knuckle down and revise, or to find jobs for those who weren’t taking any exams. The YTS basically took the latter and paid them unemployment benefit once they left school.
Nobody liked the YTS, not even employers. They thought it would be a great idea to get youngsters in to work their way through the ranks for peanuts. But you pay peanuts and you get monkeys. The thing is, if you put YTS monkeys all together in a room with a few typewriters, they’d just throw them at each other – not take 500 years to write the complete works of Shakespeare.
The first YTS gibbon I came across was in one of my early summer jobs inbetween colleges. This young lad turned up one morning sucking on an Embassy #1 and looking less than eager to be there. But you know the pecking order in any firm. The new lad has to make the brews and this obviously meant a promotion for yours truly. I got to actually sit down first thing in a morning and get my coffee delivered.
We all told the new lad our beverage requirements and pointed him in the direction of the kettle. There were only four of us and we were all on tea. The sugar conundrum wasn’t too ridiculous and nobody was overly fussy about the strength. We all sat chatting about whatever it was we were chatting about until five minutes had passed and somebody jovially asked where the brews were. A slight grunt came from the designated brew area and we carried on chatting.
Another five minutes passed and another enquiry as to the whereabouts of the brews was made – this time a little more forcefully. There are some folk whose days are defined by the first brew of the day. (Let’s be fair, the civil service have been known to go out on strike over it). After 15 minutes we still hadn’t seen head nor tail of a cuppa and the main man went to see what was going on.
The next thing we heard was a spot of swearing interspersed with the term ‘useless’. We all decided to go and have a look at what was going on as it seemed to be getting a touch heated. As we entered ‘brew corner’ we were greeted with a ‘Check what this docile t*** has done!’
Apparently, the YTS cabbage had managed to get the cups out, find the tea and the sugar and even fill the kettle full of water. However, he also managed to fill the kettle full of teabags, sugar and milk and had waited for the whole concoction to boil. Once it had boiled he’d tried to pour his ‘ready brew’ mix into the cups, but couldn’t get much of a flow due to the teabags blocking the spout of the kettle.
I hasten to add he wasn’t there to make the next lot.
Not too long I hope?
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